And Justice For All
by metalguru
Summary: The life of Dr. Director, from her first mission to the KP years. KP spy fiction.
1. Default Chapter

Kim Possible and Global Justice do not belong to me. However, all my fan-characters and new versions of KP characters do (to a degree). However, I'm a nice guy and don't mind if others use my ideas, as long as they give me credit.

Kim Possible belongs to the creators of it (can't remember names)

Dialoguesin italicsare in Russian.

"…And Justice For All."

Season 1: "The Unforgiven"

Chapter 1: "Welcome to Global Justice"

_Moscow_

_Present Day; New Year's Eve_

Out in Red Square, the crowds began to fill into the center of Moscow to kick off the celebrations ringing in the New Year. Okay, it wasn't exactly Times Square, the temperature was below freezing, everyone was angry, and the Neo-Nazis were busy protesting and beating up people, like they did every year. But, still, it was the New Year, a time to hope for a better future.

As the revelers filled the streets, they didn't notice that out of a nearby sewer grate watched a set of eyes, observing their every move. However, though at first they would have been disturbed that someone would be in the sewer under them, after they discovered his purpose for being, they would have been reassured that their safety was guaranteed.

Because this set of eyes belonged to a member of the Russian branch of Global Justice. Like their American counterpart, Global Justice here watched over the people, ensuring their safety from super-villains, terrorists, etc.

This young agent peered out at the crowds. Every year, Global Justice ran security around the New Years Eve celebration in Red Square, just as American GJ did at Times Square. Around the world, smaller branches of GJ did the same in their respective countries, ensuring that the celebrations could go on without disruption.

However, all these facts did not counter the fact that the job sucked. Especially sewer duty. It was only given to the youngest members or agents who screwed up enough to anger someone, but not enough to get disciplined.

Two agents sat in the sewer at this moment, the younger one looking out, wishing he could join the crowd or at least get some vodka to warm himself. His compatriot sat next to the slowly running sewage, making cigarettes. When they both breathed, their breath appeared in a large cloud in front of them.

"_Quit looking out there, Nick. It only makes this worse."_ Nick stepped away from the grate and returned to his fellow agent. The older agent handed Nick one of his rolled cigarettes.

Nick lit a match and lighted the cigarette, taking a puff. He stared at the ceiling.

" _Andrew, how many years have you done this?_ "

" _This will be my second. Nothing happened last year, and everyone I've talked to says nothing ever happens. Who cares about Red Square on New Years? Even the people who come hate it. It's the Americans who have to worry. Just relax, Nick, take a load off. Eventually they'll all leave and we can get back to our miserable lives. Eh?_ "

A footstep sounded down the tunnel. Some debris fell into the water. Andrew and Nick stood up and pointed their rifles down the tube.

" _Hey, who's there?_ " Andrew called.

Silence. Nothing. Nick looked at Andew, then took a step forward, making a sound.

If the revelers in Red Square had bothered to quiet down and look into the sewers, they would have seen the flashes and heard the sounds of silenced automatic gunfire. However, since they were busy drinking and celebrating, no one noticed the commotion down below.

Down in the sewers, Nick and Andrew lay face first on the brick walk. The sounds of bullet casings hitting the floor echoed into the tunnel. Several figures walked by the bodies of the two agents, four of them carrying a large metal case that required allof them to carry. The last figure stopped, stooped down to the fallen agents, and reached into Andrew's coat. Finding what he was looking for, the man pulled out a communicator from the coat. Fiddling with the controls, he put in a call to American Global Justice.

**_Scene change: horizontal line isn't working_**

Thousands of miles away, in a sleepy little suburb called Middleton, Wade Load, ten-year old hacker and computer genius, was, as usual, at his computer. His mom didn't need him downstairs until 11,

Right now, it was 7 P.M., there really wasn't much to do. KP and Ron were at parties to celebrate the New Year. Global Justice was on orange alert, in accordance with Homeland Security, but since they had been on yellow alert since forever, it really didn't mean anything, except that it was New Years. The villains he had tracers on were all at home or parties, which Wade had no idea since he really didn't know what villains did in their free time.

To amuse himself, Wade often searched the internet to see what the less computer literate did with their time, and by doing so, he had recently discovered online chess. After a few weeks of playing all night, he was already almost the top player on all the search engine websites. He wanted a challenge, so playing in the middle of the night was great because only the most eccentric, most diligent, and most skilled players were playing at 2 a.m. in the morning.

One of Wade's opponents from late night had challenged him at 4 p.m., and three hours later they were still going at it.

Wade moved his bishop to take his opponent's queen; upon doing so he trapped the king.

"Checkmate, I win!" A video feed of his opponent popped up. His opponent was another young boy with messy red hair, rosy cheeks, and some weird high-tech goggles on.

Upon losing, his opponent fell on his back, flailing his arms. "No fair, no fair, no fair!"

He popped back up and looked straight into the screen. "Ed wants a rematch!"

Wade cracked his knuckles. "Bring it on, E…"

INCOMING MESSAGE! A red pop-up appeared on Wade's screen, with a short buzz indicating its arrival. Wade examined the source code.

_Priority Line 2._ Line 1 was reserved for Kim. Line 2 was Global Justice's line.

"Hold up for a sec. I've got to deal with this."

Wade called up the daily list of operations. Typing in his security clearance code, he examined the list and saw that there were several New Years watches going on.

_Probably an agent reporting in. _Wade thought about whether he should take this call. As a part-time job he worked as a communications coordinator for Global Justice, which was a fancy name for a phone operator. It was the most boring job in the world. He couldn't imagine anyone doing it for a living. _Whatever. Money's money._ He clicked the call line open.

"Operator."

The line was quiet for a second. Then a voice came on. "Who is this?" He had a sweet voice tinted with an Eastern European accent.

"How may I direct your call sir?"

"I'd like to speak to Betty Director."

Wade immediately punched in the numbers starting a flag program. In a few seconds, a Global Justice operator would be monitoring this call. Whoever it was, he was using a Global Justice phone, had not followed input protocol, and had dropped the name of one of the senior members over an unsecured line. This was definitely a red flag.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know anyone by that name. Is there any other way I can help you?"

"Tell her this:

Now is the winter of our discontent  
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;  
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house  
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

She'll understand. CLICK "

**_Scene change_**

At a high class party in Upperton of the Tri-City area, the bartenders were busy pouring various drinks for the clientele. The party-goers were all rich businessmen and women, with fortunes to spare and egos to match.

One of the bartenders, a handsome Japanese man in his late twenties, worked feverishly to fill all the orders. Most of the orders came from rich and snobbish lawyers and stock brokers with a little too much alcohol in them. They made their orders accompanied by snippy little comments or orders to work faster, which were really starting to piss him off.

Then she walked up.

Like the famous song, as soon as she caught his eye, she put a spell on him, because now he was hers. She was in her late thirties, but still had a tight figure to die for, which her form-fitting blue dress only accentuated. She walked up to the bar and leaned against it.

"Cosmopolitan, please." She had a sweet voice that could make any man melt. Despite the fact that one of her eyes was covered by an eye-patch, which some men may have found repugnant, her other eye was so alluring that the eye-patch only added a sense of danger, and he liked danger.

"One cosmo, coming up." He quickly grabbed the ingredients and placed them all into a shaker. After making the concoction, he took one of the martini glasses and sensuously rubbed the edge in pink sugar. He poured the drink, and then placed a small umbrella in it. She watched him the entire time.

"Here you are." He pushed the cosmopolitan to the woman, then leaned against the bar, staring deeply into her eyes. She reached forward and grabbed the cosmo, but instead of pulling back, she only got closer to the man's face. Her lips grew close to his.

"Agent Kira?" she said in a breathy voice.

"Yes, ma'am?" Suddenly it got very hot under the collar for the man.

She moved her mouth to his ear. "Get back to work." She turned around to rejoin her friend who had been waiting.

_Damn!_ Agent Kira thought. _Dr. Director has it going on!_ He reached below the bar and pulled out a cloth, wiping his forehead where beads of sweat were forming. For the head of a top-secret global spy organization, she sure wasn't what you'd expect. Most spy leaders were stuffy collared white men with weight problems and premature hair loss.

However, most new agents agreed on one thing: Dr. Director was hot. The senior agents, however, just said "don't bother." For one thing, inter-bureau dating was off-limits. Secondly, she was the boss. Still, rumors flew around Global Justice about who was her type, if she was seeing anybody, and there was bet going to see who could figure it out first.

A snooty comment from another stock broker with too much alcohol in him knocked AgentKira back into reality. He went back to pouring drinks, but he still took one last glance at Dr. Director.

"Who was that?" Dr. Betty Director was at the party with another woman her age, Melissa Walter, a former roommate from college. Melissa wore a black dress with spaghetti strings.

"Just an acquaintance." Betty sipped at her cosmo.

"He was cute. I didn't know you had a life."

Betty smiled. Since she couldn't exactly tell her friends the truth about her job, she told them that she worked as a negotiator for an overseas computer company and didn't get out much. Melissa thought this meant that all Betty did all day was file papers and work with fat old white men in suits and computer nerds, not exactly every girl's dream job.

Melissa grabbed Betty by the arm and pulled her over to a group near the windows.

"Ooo, come on Betty, I want you to meet Mark!"

Ever since college, Melissa always tried to set Betty up with various guy friends. It was kind of a game. Though Melissa tried to find the right guy for Betty, Betty was notorious for knocking guys down a peg, making her seem aloof and cold, and keeping Melissa guessing.

Melissa pulled Betty over to a group of her friends. "Guys, I'd like you to meet my friend, Betty Director. She's single and desperate!"

Betty punched Melissa in the arm. "Melissa!"

"Well, that's okay." One of the guys approached her. He had long brown hair and a short beard and was kind of cute, but he had lipstick on his collar and his tie was loose and down to his chest, and he had obviously drunk too much eggnog. "I know what you need (HIC) ."

_Ew. _Betty thought. Suddenly, she felt a vibration go through her thigh. She realized that her pager, which was attached to her thigh by a garter, was going off. _Perfect timing!_

"Excuse me. I have to take a call." She looked at the bar, where Agent Kira was talking on the phone.

"Wait, Betty!" Melissa turned to follow her. "Is it work?"

"Probably."

"Does this mean you're leaving?"

"Most likely."

Melissa looked hurt. "But you just got here. How are we going to find you a man if you always have to run out for work? You're going to die an old maid."

Betty smiled. "Don't worry, there's a guy out there even for me. Besides, none of these guys are my type."

"Then what is your type?"

Betty winked. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

She walked over to the bar, leaving Melissa with nothing to do but go back to her friends.

"Your timing is excellent." Betty said, walking back up to the bar.

Kira pointed to the phone. "Not my save, boss. This time there really is a fire. I've called a cab." He winked.

"Good work." She turned towards the elevators.

"Ma'am, wait!" She turned back to Kira.

"Yes?"

"Since you're leaving, can I leave now?"

"Hmm. Let me think. Are you getting paid for this?"

"By the hour."

"Then… stay for the rest of the party."

Kira's jaw dropped. "But, ma'am…"

"No buts. You make a damn good cosmopolitan, Shizuke. You should be proud of that! I got to go, see you at work!" She waved and then left.

Kira could only watch her leave before hanging his head. Behind him, another annoying voice started up. "Yo, barkeep! Hey, I'm talking to you!"

_1987._

The cell opened and two men in blue uniforms motioned for the prisoner to come out. The prisoner was a very large and stocky man, with large shoulders, with a crew cut and his face clean-cut except for some fuzz around his chin, and a stare that suggested he'd seen it all. He wore gray overalls with nothing to identify him except for a number on the left side of the shirt's chest. He got up off his cot and walked in his shackles out to his guards. They lead him down a twisting maze of never-ending plain hallways lit by endless fluorescent lighting until they reached a simple door on the left side of this hallway. One of the guards opened the door and the other led the prisoner inside.

The room was a classroom, ordinary in any respect, with plastic desks, a wooden teacher's desk, and a projector screen. If it wasn't for the fact that there were three other men dressed in the gray overalls, in shackles, and being flanked by their own two guards, one could have guessed this was a school.

At the front of the classroom stood an older man with short gray hair and a similarly colored mustache, wearing a brown bomber jacket with patches revealing that he was a military aviator. He leaned against the desk with his arms folded and a serious look on his face.

The guards led the large man to the front of the rows and stood him next to one of the desks. All the other prisoners were doing the same thing.

"Seats!" The old man barked. The four prisoners immediately sat down. The old man nodded at the guards and they all filed out of the room.

The large man looked at his fellow prisoners. To his left were two guys, one who looked like a surfer that had just come off the beach, the other a wiry guy who wore coke-bottle glasses and who was obviously tense, as he was visibly shaking. To his right was a shaggy-haired kid who didn't look older than eighteen.

As soon as the guards left, the old man reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He tossed it to the kid.

"Take your shackles off and get comfortable. It's going to take a while for us to get acquainted, and it'll be less painful without your arms and legs cuffed."

The kid removed his shackles and passed the key to the large man, who did likewise with the surfer. After all the men had removed their chains, they stretched their legs and arms unconfined for the first time in awhile. The old man quit leaning on the desk. He picked up four brown manila envelopes next to him and handed them out to the four men.

"Gentleman, I am Colonel Nathan Bolt. Let me remind you all that you volunteered for this, and once you open that envelope, you've gone beyond the point of no return. Anyone having any last minute doubts?" None of the men spoke.

"Good. Open your envelopes and let me be the first to welcome you to Global Justice."

"Looks like they all decided to stay." On the right side of the classroom was a mirror. While the mirror reflected the images of the prisoners back at them, the mirror was one-way. Behind the mirror stood two figures watching the prisoners; one, an older man with slicked gray hair, was wearing a black uniform, the other a woman in her twenties, wearing an identical uniform, except in blue. Also in the room was a man of Asian descent.

The woman chatted with the older man. "Yes sir, though I'm not so sure if these four were the best choices for this mission."

"You have some doubts, Agent Director?"

"I was looking at the file of the big man, and I'm worried. Did you read it?"

"Studied it. Do you see something wrong?"

"First of all, his file doesn't even give a name. No place of birth, no list of family, only a birthdate; January 12, 1950. Then, his record looks like any Special Forces soldier, until about ten years ago, where his file just becomes a gigantic chunk of black marker surrounded by classified symbols. We have no way to determine his qualifications, no cause for comparison, and if he really is a traitor, I don't want him jeopardizing the team!"

The middle-aged man put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently to assure her doubts.

"Don't worry, he comes recommended." He smiled.

"Your buddies in black ops?"

"Remind me to strangle your father for flapping his big mouth. Don't worry, my dear, your first mission will be a doozy, but we'll all come out fine."

The four men had opened their manila envelopes and were examining the contents inside. The old man was explaining the various items inside.

"From this point on you do not speak about your past lives or even your real names. As soon as you open the envelope, there will be your Global Justice ID inside with your new name. Open it up, and read it out loud so the rest of your compatriots can know your new name, starting with the kid here."

The kid opened his ID and looked at the name with a weird look of confusion and a hint of anxiety. "Wire," he said.

The Colonel looked at the large man. "Pariah," he said.

The surfer was next. He looked shocked. "Sir, can I get a new name?"

The Colonel raised an eyebrow. "What's the problem?"

"Sir, my new name is Justin Case. Just in case? The other two got cool names, and the one word name is so cool, like Cher. Can't I be Stryker or Maverick?"

"Agent Case, may I remind you that there's a big fat court martial waiting for you back in the Navy?"

The surfer gulped and shut up. The Colonel continued.

"Now, we've only been here five minutes and I've already broken the first rule of Global Justice. If you ask anybody around here, I'm as straight as an arrow, so I don't like breaking rules, and if somebody causes me to break one, I make sure that they pay for it later. Since this is your first day, I'll let it slide, but let me make one thing clear; shut the hell up. Now, you, last man on the row."

The man in the coke-bottled glasses opened his ID. He pressed his glasses to his nose. "Lewis Trigger."

The Colonel walked over to the wall next to the light switch. "Now, you are all official probationary agents of Global Justice. Before you meet the rest of the members of your team, I have to first indoctrinate you in what Global Justice is all about, so, lucky you, you get a video." He hit the light switch and the projector flicked on.

The projector started up with a black and white _4…3…2…marker_. Some patriotic music started up. The movie was in black and white. Case and Wire started to snicker. The Colonel cleared his throat and the two shut up.

"FILM FOR THE TRAINING OF NEW AGENTS

OFFICE OF SECRET INTELLIGENCE

CLASSIFIED 1948

World War I. The Great War. After years of trench warfare and the deaths of millions of individuals, the sovereign nations of the world affected by this horrible tragedy came together to try and advert another world war from ever happening. However, despite their best intentions, old wounds from centuries of warfare on the European continent, coupled with the United States refusal to join the League of Nations, caused these nations to fall back on their biases and place heavy blame on the losers. Nations such as Germany, unable to pay their debts and forced into deep poverty, turned to dictators who claimed the knowledge of how to bring back their countries' former glory.

When Hitler took power in Germany, he rebuilt Germany's military might, eventually turning his attention to expanding his country's borders, the impetus of World War II. As Germany succeeded in early victories, expanding to the point where only Great Britain remained a threat, Hitler believed his theories vindicated, that the Aryan race was superior to all others. At this time, he unveiled his final solution; the systematic destruction of all races inferior to the Aryan.

This culture of megalomania and disregard for human life attracted a new breed of person to the Nazi regime: the super-villain. Power-hungry generals, mad scientists, corrupt members of the nobility and high society; in exchange for subservience to Hitler, they were allowed free reign to pursue their ambitions. Their goals were simple in nature: power, riches, and world domination.

Since the beginning of humanity, there have always been individuals seeking absolute power. A few examples include Alexander the Great, Napoleon, and, of course, Hitler. However, with the coming arrival of the atomic age, suddenly technology had progressed to a point where one individual could do great damage to the world without the need for massive armies or world-wide influence.

1945. As the Allied Powers pressed into Germany, the super-villains, holding neither loyalty to Germany nor regret for their actions, used their influence or wealth to flee the country and settle where they would not be found. Because, as Allied troops entered Germany, as well as the crimes of the Nazi party, the liberators would find the remnants of various plots and projects of the super-villains. To the leaders of the Allied countries, discovering that there could be people in the world whose only desire was their own self-interest and who would take their ambitions to the extreme was both appalling and terrifying.

The most famous super-villain of this era was Dr. Heinrich Von Slayer. Falling into the mad scientist category, he used the camps at Auschwitz as his own personal supply depot of lab rats, where he committed horrible atrocities to further his own twisted human experiments.

As the war neared its end, Dr. Von Slayer retreated to his castle in Austria. Two OSS agents, LT. Matthew Benniman, U.S. Army, and Sergeant Ian Miller, British SAS, infiltrated Slayer's castle posing as German officers. Fighting their way through Von Slayer's castle, they put a stop to the mad doctor. Though what they saw cannot be repeated here, the extent of Von Slayer's machinations was so great that the Allied nations decided there was a need for an organization dedicated solely to protecting the world from super-villains.

Great Britain, having already begun the process of revamping their successful MI-5 and MI-6 intelligence units to address the newfound power of Soviet Russia, added clandestine operations against super-villains to their charter and agents' training,

But, the United States, having only recently fully entered the shadowy world of government sponsored espionage, was forced to start from scratch. In 1947 the American government signed the National Security Act, founding its international intelligence bureau, the Central Intelligence Agency, or CIA. The CIA was designed to gather intelligence on foreign threats in order to protect America and allow democracy to thrive.

Unbeknownst to the American public, however, a second intelligence bureau was also founded under the act, their sole purpose of being to combat the growing threat of the super-villain. In its charter, the group would protect the world from over-ambitious individuals, ideally unaffected by the politics of their respective nations. It would have contacts with British and Russian intelligence, and subsequent branches set up in the most influential countries around the world. Hence, the name it was given was designed to reflect this charter.

Global Justice."

The film ran out and the Colonel hit the lights. "That's Global Justice in a nutshell. We're in the business of catching villains, terrorists, and anyone who threatens peace and order. While the CIA reports only to the US of A, we are held accountable by the entire world. Any questions?"

Either the four men understood or they were too overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all, but there were no questions.

"Good, now that we're all on the same page, let's meet the rest of your team."

The door next to the mirror opened and the three people who were in the next room entered. They walked up to the desk and stood in front of the four men.

The middle-aged man spoke first. He was clean-shaven and had slicked back gray hair. "My name is Roger Wilco. I'm the team leader. This is my second-in-command, Agent Betty Director, call-sign Doc." He motioned to the woman next to him. She had short brown hair, two pretty eyes, and an athletic body. Case had a goofy look on his face.

"Case, you will always address her as Agent Director! Am I clear?"

"Yes, Colonel!"

Roger smirked, and then continued.

"She's tops among agents in martial arts, so don't try anything stupid, Agent Case. Finally, this is Agent Will Du." He pointed at the Asian man who stood rigid at parade rest next to Betty. He gave a quick nod to the men. Case could barely hold in his snickers.

_Looks like G.I. Joe's here_, he thought. _Wonderful. What'd I get myself into now?_

"Agent Du is fluent in several languages and will be our interpreter. He also has extensive counter-terrorism training with the FBI and CIA, and some medical training. Now, before any of you wonder why the heck you're here…"

_Too late_, thought Case.

"…I'll run down each of you and the skills you bring to the team. Agent Wire here is an expert hacker and extremely gifted with machines. Agent Case is an expert pilot, in case we need to take a helicopter or jet, and he also has extensive survival training. Agent Trigger is our demolitions expert. I'm seen some of your work, Agent Trigger, and you're very good. Finally, we come to Agent Pariah here. He's our Special Forces front man. You, my good man, have the most grueling yet important job of all. I've enlisted the help of a small squad of Philippine SEALs. Your job is to take this squad and guide us into enemy territory so we can complete our mission. Are you up to it?"

Pariah looked up at Roger. "Yes sir." His voice was low and gravely. "May I ask what the mission is, sir?"

"Yes, of course! Since we're all acquainted now, let's get down to business. Colonel, if you would?" The lights went off and the projector started again.

Metalguru presents…

_I want to live in fire  
with all the taste I desire_

May, 1987

_  
it's all good if you let me dive  
with some sharks on the ground_

"Two years ago, top-ranking Russian General and well-known Marxist Dimitri Khoteslav, disgusted with his government's move towards abandoning the dream of utopia, left the Russian military and disappeared."

you loose your routine  
you loose your routine  
you loose your routine  
cause I found my path

"A few months ago, he resurfaced under the employ of Dr. Nicholas Redlowski, known to GJ as Dr. Red. In his younger years Dr. Red supplied Stalin and successors with technology and military secrets, some stolen from bases here in America. Eventually, he went rogue, seeking only glory and power for himself."

_what the hell are you trying  
now I know there is something more  
what happened to you  
still staying on my path_

"Four days ago, the Tchaikovsky Unit, our Russian counterpart's Special Unit, was called into action to investigate the loss of communication with the Kola nuclear power plant on the Kola Peninsula. We lost contact with them within a day."

_are you still denying  
now I know there is something more  
that this is the truth  
it's all in you_

"Two days later, our own special unit, Global Justice Special Unit 01, call sign Mozart Unit, was dispatched to the Russian peninsula of Kola north of Moscow to search for Tchaikovsky unit. They too were MIA within one day."

what do you came for  
what did you expect to find  
what do you came for  
what did you expect to find

"Yesterday, Tchaikovsky unit operative Tat'iana Olovianko stumbled half-dead into a GJ safe house with news confirming our worst fears; General Khoteslav and Dr. Red have taken command of the nuclear power plant at Kola."

_  
what do you came for  
what did you expect to find  
what do you came for  
what did you expect to find_

"We have no idea what they want with the power plant, but there's enough plutonium inside to recreate Chernobyl three times over. The situation is extremely tense. They could be building nukes, or planning on selling the rods to other nations." 

so boundless I feel  
and boundless all my fears  
stop running back to old times

"We need someone to get inside and find our guys. The Russian government is giving us till the day after next to enter Kola Peninsula and infiltrate the power plant. After that, the plant is going to be swarmed by the Russian army."

you loose your routine  
cause I found my path

"Failure is not an option. It's a new world, lady and gentleman. The secretary of state believes this could make or break future relationships with the Russian government, depending on whether or not we leave the plant intact or floating in irradiated goo. No pressure, huh guys?"

what the hell are you trying  
now I know there is something more  
what happened to you  
still staying on my path

"Since we don't have time to train you, you'll have to learn to act as a team on the way there, because you're shipping out tonight. It's gut check time."

_  
are you still denying  
now I know there is something more  
that this is the truth  
it's all in you_

"However, you know the rewards for completion. Trigger and Case, you'll both be exonerated of past charges and made full Global Justice agents, with all rights and privileges that apply. Wire and Pariah, your criminal records and federal files will be ripped up, and Pariah, you'll be cleared of treason."

what the hell are you trying  
now I know there is something more  
what happened to you  
still staying on my path

"Your new unit is Global Justice Special Unit 02, call sign Beethoven Unit."

_are you still denying  
now I know there is something more  
that this is the truth  
it's all in you_

"That's all I have for you. The code name for this operation is Operation Wagner Overture. Good luck and god-speed."

"And Justice for All"

Created by Metalguru

Starts December 20

**End Chapter**

Season 1 inspired by Metal Gear Solid 3.

"Now is the winter of our discontent" is from Shakespeare's Richard III.

"…And Justice for All" and "the Unforgiven" are Metallica songs.

Song at the end is "Path, vol. 2" by Apocalyptica.


	2. First Blood

_Jerzianna: I've been reading "Without Remorse" recently, so yeah, you hit one of my inspirations right on the money._

And Justice For All...

Season 1: The Unforgiven

Chapter 2: First Blood

Any speech in italics is Russian.

_Present Day_

Dr. Director walked out of the high-rise building to the nearby street where a man held the door open on a waiting car. His dirty blond hair was short yet still enough to be messy and he had some peach fuzz growing on his chin. He had a deep tan and had sunglasses in his hair, despite the fact that it was night. Even after years as a full agent and marriage, Agent Justin Case still looked like a surfer.

"Evening, ma'am. You'd wish that terrorists took vacations like the rest of us."

"Crime never sleeps, Justin. It's something I learned a long time ago." she said, getting into the car. Agent Case shut the door and walked around the car, getting in the driver's seat. He turned the ignition.

Dr. Director cleared her throat loudly. Case gave her a confused look. She pointed at his shoulder. "Seatbelt?"

"Oh. Yeah." He reached up and hooked in his seat belt.

Dr. Director did the same, and then grasped the arm rests tightly. "I don't suppose you could take it slow for once?"

"After all the years you've known me, you'd still ask me that question?" He revved the engine.

"And I thought married life would make you lose your edge." She pulled her seat belt as tight as it could go.

"Not when you marry my wife." He put the car into drive and gunned it.

"Casssseeeeee!"

_1987_

The sun was beginning to rise over the small compound situated in the woods of the Kola Peninsula, north of Moscow. The compound was more a outpost than a base, consisting of four wooden cabins, a cabana for covering vehicles, a look-out post above the treeline, and a fenced off area containing some old oil drums and a gas tank that hadn't been used for years. It was about twenty-five miles outside of the Kola Nuclear Power Plant, and was the outermost edge of the terrorists network for protecting themselves from attackers.

Two groups of guards walked the compound, looking out into the woods with their night-vision goggles, which in about an hour would become unusable. They all wore forest green-gray camouflage and carried various AK-47s and AR-15s.

Up in the look-out post, a sniper team searched the trees and the horizon for any incoming threats. One member had the sniper rifle, the other binoculars.

The one with the rifle stood up and stretched. He had been laying on his stomach for about six hours, waiting for someone, anyone, to cross his line of fire. All night they had kept their vigil, using various tricks they learned in sniper school to keep their minds from wandering off. As two days had gone by since they had gotten any word that a part of the network had been attacked, the captain was expecting an attack any day now. They predicted that the attack would most likely come at night, since the moon had been full for the past day and would continue to light up the night once twilight had come. It was great for sniping, but also put some fear in the guards that each night may have been their last. But that was the price for treason, a knife in the back from out of nowhere, your killer disappearing just as fast as you died. Of course, the rewards were just as great, or else why the hell would they be there?

The spotter of the sniper team noticed his partner's brash decision. " _What are you doing?_ " he said, in Russian.

The sniper continued to stretch his body. " _If anyone was going to attack, they would have done it by now._ "

The spotter grunted, but then turned back to the binoculars. " _Fine, but don't let the Captain see you._ "

He looked through the binoculars with heavy eyes. Soon, his shift would be up and they could get some sleep before another long night.

_Whump!_ His thoughts were shattered by the sound of a body collapsing. He turned to see his partner lying crumpled with a pool of blood forming around his head. In the distance, the sun glinted off a shiny object. The guard filled his lungs with air in order to cry out, but the sound caught in his throat as his head jerked back and his body went limp.

Across the compound, two guards leaned against the fence of the fuel area, lighting up fresh cigarettes. They grabbed their weapons as a figure came out of the woods. They relaxed as they recognized him as one of the guards who had gone out on patrol earlier. He wore a ski mask with holes at the eyes and mouth. He walked up to them.

" _You two idiots are going to blow this whole damn place up. Got a light?_ " He pulled out a cigarette and one of the two leaning lit it for him. He took a big puff and blew out a cloud of smoke.

" _Where's the other guy?_ " one of the guards asked.

The guard with the ski mask motioned back towards the woods. " _He's taking a leak. We went pretty far_. " He started looking around.

" _How far_ ?"

Satisfied that no one else was around, the guard with the ski mask reached behind his back and pulled out two silenced .9 millimeter pistols. He shoved them directly in the guards' faces. "To hell and back." the guard said, in perfect English. He fired, killing both guards instantly. Once again looking around to make sure no one was coming; he motioned back to the woods.

Two groups of four people, all dressed in camouflage of various greens, ran towards him. Both ran past him towards the cabins. One team stopped outside of one of the cabins and two of their members started planting explosives. The other, made up of four large men, ran around the cabin with guns drawn and disappeared from view.

The first team placed explosives on two of the cabins, and then returned to the traitor guard at the fence. Using a large pair of chain clippers, he had broken the lock to the old gas station. The demolitions crew entered and started placing explosives on the old oil drums, while the members not involved took up positions around them. While they worked, sporadic pops came from around the campsite. While not very inconspicuous, the silenced gunfire still managed to accomplish its job of not waking up the remaining terrorists sleeping in the cabins.

Finishing the job, the bomber attached a timed cord to the explosives and lit the fuse. As soon as he was satisfied that the fuse was smoking, the team moved out back into the woods. Reaching a safe distance, one of the members pulled off his ski mask, revealing the face of a woman. She pulled back her sleeve and looked at her watch. "0545."

There was a whisper from one of the members behind her. "Time for one hell of a wake-up call." Another member, this one wearing thick glasses, was also looking at his watch.

After forty-five seconds, the cord had burned all the way to the explosives, which exploded, taking the fuel drums and gas tank with them. A huge fireball shot up into the sky, and the sound was deafening, as it shattered the glass of all the windows of the cabins.

Inside the cabins, the sleeping terrorists woke with a start. They quickly grabbed their guns and headed for the outside.

Back at the demolitions group, the man with the glasses was still checking his watch. He spoke confidently, almost victoriously. "By now, they should all be up and headed for the doors. However, there they will run into a little problem."

_BLAM!_ One of the cabins was ripped to pieces by a second explosion. Splinters flew into the air and nothing remained where the cabin once stood. The team turned their attention to the second cabin. Nothing happened. After ten seconds, the bomber stopped looking at his watch and grabbed his demolitions backpack. "Smart bastards," was all he said. The silenced gunfire was now replaced with the sounds of automatics going off. The team mounted up and headed back into the compound under the cover of the smoke, which now rose high into the air.

The smoke did not go unnoticed. Several miles out, two helicopters spotted the column of black and headed towards it. The first was a transport helicopter.

" Storm watcher, this is Superman, have sighted team's signal and am changing course to rendezvous, e.t.a. three minutes. "

" Roger that, Superman. Black Knight has your cover. "

Next to the transport helicopter, a fearsome looking jet black helicopter heavily loaded with rockets and missiles swooped towards the compound.

The Captain had been sleeping when the explosions had gone off, jolting him from his sleep. He looked out his window to see that the fuel depot had exploded. _What did those idiots do now?!? _His first thoughts apparently suggested that the guards who smoked next to the fuel deposits did so regularly. However, as soon as he stepped outside, the first cabin exploded, knocking the captain off his feet and knocking some sense into his head. The sounds of gunfire only confirmed his new revelation.

He ran back into the cabin, grabbing his flak jacket and machine gun. A pounding came at the door. " _Captain, we're under attack!_ "

The captain slipped his flak jacket on, then headed towards the door. Before he got to the door, the pounding, which had been continuous, immediately stopped. Grasping the door handle, the Captain waited stopped for a second, listened, then raised his weapon and pointed it at a target beyond the door. He ripped the door opened.

As soon as he opened it, a body rushed him. Trying to avoid the charging attacker, he moved backward, but quickly lost his footing and fell; all the while the figure was falling after him. The Captain's machine gun flew away, but he was able to pull out his pistol and fired it twice into the man's stomach. However, it was to no avail, as the figure still fell upon him. Hitting the floor, the Captain grabbed his attacker's head, ready to defend himself. However, as he grabbed the man's head, he realized that the man was one of his own soldiers. Furthermore, he was already dead from a head wound inflicted upon him by another man, an enemy soldier who had pushed the body onto the Captain and at this moment had his pistol trained directly on the Captain's head.

The Captain looked past the barrel of the pistol and into the face of his true attacker, who looked like an old man despite the fact that his face was painted to blend in with the forest. The Captain's mind quickly turned towards figuring a way out of this situation. His pistol arm was pinned beneath the body, but maybe it was at such an angle that he could hit the man in the leg?

" _I know what you're thinking._ " the man said, in perfect Russian. " _Don't even try it. I'll get you right between the eyes even before I hit the ground._ "

The Captain, shocked that his enemy could know that, let go of the pistol and slowly pulled his arm out from under the body. He put both hands in the air.

The gunfire outside, which had been sporadic, now became heavy and concentrated.

The Captain spoke. " _You may think you have won. But in the end, you will only end up like the others._ "

" _Disturbing. But I plan on seeing grand-kids._ " He lifted his left wrist to his mouth. "Doc, what's your situation?"

"The last of them have all grouped in the carport. There's about twenty left."

Betty Director and her demolition team were currently exchanging fire with the remnants of the terrorists. They had M-50s mounted on the back of two jeeps, so the Global Justice team was pinned down behind the last standing cabin.

_Where's that other team?_ She looked down the sight on her AR-15 and fired into the carport.

The radio cackled again. "Hold on. Reinforcements are on the way."

Seconds later, the sounds of helicopter blades filled the air. Agent Case, currently part of Doc's group, armed his grenade launcher and fired a canister at the carport. Instead of exploding, the case shot out yellow smoke. The smoke filled the carport. The terrorists, panicking at the possibility of gas, either ran out into the clearing between the cabins or behind the carport.

Suddenly a large black helicopter swooped out of the trees and into the clearing. It sighted the yellow smoke and immediately trained its weapons on the carport. Firing rockets and chain guns, the carport was reduced to a smoking heap of rubble in seconds. The members of the terrorists not injured came out with their hands up in the air, hoping to be spared.

Another helicopter came into the clearing, this one a transport helicopter. As it landed, several soldiers jumped out and rushed the surrendering terrorists. The soldiers handcuffed the terrorists and had them sit in a circle on the ground. Then, with the members of Global Justice, they fanned out to search the grounds for more enemies.

Walking out of the Captain's cabin, Roger Wilco led the captured captain out towards the rest of his men. He looked around to see the base in ruins except for the last of the cabins, which his team was currently in the process of breaking into. They entered and cleared, and in a minutes Doc came walking out and up to Roger to report.

"Sir, the intelligence was right on the mark. We took the barracks and the fuel depot out of comission, you got the captain, and the last cabin was filled with ammo."

"Very good, Agent Director. So, Betty?" He got closer and whispered. "How was it?"

"Amazing. I'm starting to see why those Special Forces goons get such a kick out of blowing things up."

"That's good to hear. This is only the beginning. Carry on."

"Right!" She headed off to fulfill her duties as XO.

Roger looked around at the rest of his team. Du had played his part as a Russian guard perfectly. Wire and Trigger had worked great together planting the bombs.

Case was currently standing away from everyone else, observing the black helicopter that currently circled overhead. Roger decided to go talk to him.

"See something interesting, Agent Case?"

Case turned to see his team leader approaching. Case pointed at the black helicopter.

"That's a KA-50 Black Shark. It's so top secret there are rumors that it doesn't exist. I wish I had my camera!"

"It is pretty amazing. But of course I'd have to confiscate that picture. We're not supposed to exist either, you know."

"Yes sir."

By now, the rest of the team had joined them, except for Pariah.

Betty looked around for the missing soldier. "Sir, where's Pariah?"

As if on cue, Pariah and the four Philippine soldiers ran out of the forest and up to Roger.

"Sir, we have enemy reinforcements headed this way. They'll be here any second, and they have some heavy armor with them."

"Alright, everyone take up positions. Lieutenant!"

He motioned to a nearby Russian officer. The officer ran over to Roger and they began talking in Russian. The Lieutenant nodded, and then ran back over to his soldiers. He waved to the black helicopter, which came down and landed. The Lieutenant ran up to the cockpit and leaned in to make sure the pilot could hear him.

Roger continued. "Pariah, that sniper nest could be very useful. We don't have much cover, so watch for…"

Before he could get his speech done, a shot rang out, striking the Russian lieutenant and the pilot. The lieutenant fell to the ground, but the pilot was struggling to lift off the helicopter.

"Ambush!"

Soldiers started pouring out the forest, backed up with three jeeps.

All the GJ agents ran for the cabins along with the Russian soldiers. Before they reached the cabins, however, Case grabbed Du.

"Come with me!" Case yelled.

"Where?"

"The helicopter! We're going there!"

"Are you nuts?!?" Du tried to resist, but Case pulled him into the line of fire. Caught between a rock and hard place, Du decided to follow Case to the black helicopter.

Reaching the helicopter, Case ran up to the cockpit while Du grabbed the lieutenant and checked his pulse. He was gone.

Case unbuckled the still-alive pilot from his restraints and tried to pull him out. "Help me!"

Du jumped up on the helicopter and grabbed the pilot. The two agents managed to pull him out and put him on the ground. Case jumped in the cockpit while Du hit the ground with the pilot.

"Get clear!" Case yelled, before closing the cockpit and grabbing the controls. Du threw himself on top of the pilot while the lift from the chopper absolutely pummeled him.

Case lifted off and turned the guns of the helicopter towards the jeeps. He fired several rockets, turning two jeeps into fireballs, but all the other attackers turned their fire on him and he had to take off and come around for another pass.

The third jeep fired its M-50 at the helicopter. Since it was the last jeep left, it was a little ways separated from the rest of the group. Suddenly, the gunner felt something wrap around his neck. Unable to breathe, he was also unable to resist as he fell back on the ground. Grabbing at whatever was wrapped around his neck, he was only able to see the driver also suffering the same fate before blacking out.

Pariah and the SEALs, satisfied that the driver and gunner were dead, jumped on board the jeep and started it up. Pariah grabbed the M-50 while the SEALs jumped in the driver and passenger seats. They let loose what can only be called a military style drive-by, firing round after round into the approaching soldiers.

After two waves of soldiers had been cut down, the sounds of gunfire in the woods abated, and Pariah and his men did the same. They listened to the sudden silence, suspicious of the lull in action and unsure of whether the going was clear.

Then, they heard a rumbling through the woods. Crashing through the brush and trees, a Russian made tank rolled into the clearing, gun pointed straight at the ammo dump.

Betty Director saw the tank first. "Move, everyone, now!" They all ran, not sure where, just away from the ammo dump which in a few seconds would become a bomb.

The tank fired, blowing the cabin to smithereens. The various magazines, rockets, and bombs inside all exploded with the cabin, increasing the size of the fireball and the amount of heat.

The tank turned towards the last jeep and opened fire with its own machine gun. Realizing that they didn't stand a chance against the tank, Pariah and three of the SEALs jumped off the jeep and used it for cover. The driver was hit, but his fellow soldiers pulled him behind the jeep.

As the tank pointed its main gun at the jeep, the soldiers ran for their lives. It fired, blowing away the jeep. The SEALs ran for the woods, while Pariah ran for the GJ agents and Russian soldiers.

As Pariah jumped into the makeshift barricade the agents had quickly built from debris, he landed next to Betty Director. "If we stay here, we're going to get cut down! We need to move, now!" he yelled.

Betty looked at him and shouted, "Is there any way we can stop that tank?!?"

The tank fired again, blowing away the last cabin and sending debris into the air, quickly answering that question. Betty was horrified that all the terrorists in that cabin had been locked inside when the shell hit, but she quickly put that thought aside and took control again. "Everyone pull back!"

She was horrified again when half the team started back while the rest didn't seem to even notice her order. She looked at Pariah, who immediately grabbed the team members who hadn't moved. "They're shell-shocked! They can't hear anything! Where's that flyboy?"

Betty got on her radio. "Case, get your ass back here!"

The radio crackled. "Doc, I'm coming in hot! Move everyone back to the tree line, now!"

The Global Justice ran for the woods. The tank tried to follow, when all of a sudden the air filled with the sound of chopper blades. The remaining enemy troops who had followed the tank looked to see the black chopper come swooping down over the tree line like a punishing angel.

"Da dum da da dam da!"

Case pulled up on the throttle, stopping the helicopter in mid-air. He then pulled the trigger.

Missile after missile fired into the tank, blowing the once menacing armored vehicle into a pile of smoking wreckage. The chain guns opened up as well, ripping apart any soldier foolish enough not to drop his weapon and hit the ground. The entire compound was now once again filled with smoke and fire. The air was silent except for the fires burning.

Out in the woods beyond the compound, the enemy soldiers were retreating back to waiting trucks. When there was only one truck left, one of the younger officers ran back a little ways into the woods. After running a short distance, he came upon five individuals watching the fight from a safe distance. They were a motley crew, consisting of four men and two women. Of the men, one was in his twenties and had long blond hair, another was completely covered in black camouflage, including his face upon which he wore a black mask.Of the other two, onehad the appearances of a wolf, with shaggy black hair and fanged teeth, while the other wore a monk's robe with various markings etched into it.Of the women,one wasyoung, blond, and beautiful, the other a wrinkled old hag.

The soldier ran up to one of the men, the blond man who was obviously the leader.

" Sir, all the men are being transported back to the plant. The last truck is waiting for you. "

The man motioned for him to go back. The soldier ran back to the truck. The leader smiled.

" What do you all think? "

" They are sloppy and weak. They won't be able to stand against us. "

" They'll just end up like the last group. We'll be sending them back in body bags." "

The young woman was lying on her stomach and looking through a sniper rifle. " I could have picked off any of them easily. The pilot is cute, though. "

The leader clapped his hands. " Then we'll be off. We will meet them in the field of battle shortly. Do not underestimate them, my comrades. Some of them were chosen specifically for this mission. They may turn out stronger than we anticipate. '

An hour later, the sun had risen and the morning was starting. GJ and the Russian soldiers had finally finished clearing and securing the area. One of the Phillipine SEALs had been hit bad and needed to be medevacuated out. All of the enemy soldiers had either been killed or escaped with their compatriots. None of the other Global Justice agents had been hit. Another pilot had been sent out and had already retrieved the Black Shark, much to Agent Case's chagrin.

The team met in the center of the still-burning compound, with their leader Roger Wilco at the center. He holstered his pistol and picked up a rucksack provided by the Russian army.

"We can't stay here, in case the enemy comes back. Our target is to the East, so they're going to expect an attack from the West. We're going to hump north-west till we get almost parallel to the plant, then set up camp and sleep the rest of the day. We'll hit the plant tonight. Is everybody ready?"

Each member of the team picked up their rucksacks, Trigger picking up his demolition kit.

Betty turned around and took a look at the smashed tank behind her. She knew that there had been men inside and that they had been trying to kill her. However, it still felt strange standing next to the coffin of two soldiers she didn't even know.

Suddenly, the hatch on the tank flipped open and a soldier popped out, gasping for breath and struggling for life. The sight of him shocked Betty. He was burned badly, his human features gone, replaced by blackened flesh. However, she did recognize the flash of metal in his left hand. He was bringing a gun to bear right on her.

She tried to dodge the gun and pull her own, but the weight of the rucksack threw her off balance. The other members of GJ tried to catch her or get the soldier, but everything was happening so fast that they didn't react fast enough.

Time seemed to freeze as Betty looked straight down the black hole of the barrel of a .22 automatic.

Then, the head of the soldier jerked. His body seemed to fall in slow motion. Reality returned to Betty as she realized that the soldier was dead, killed by a knife through the head.

"Holy shit!" Wire yelled.

Pariah and the SEALs were already on the tank, securing the weapon and ensuring that the soldier was indeed gone. Pariah pressed his index finger against the soldier's throat.

"He's done."

Roger Wilco sighed. He had almost lost his second-in-command way too early in the mission. Thankfully, he had a secret weapon.

The Global Justice members, shocked by the rapidity of events, were even more shocked when a figure stepped from around the tank. They all pointed their weapons at her, but their team leader raised his arm, telling them to lower their weapons.

She was a cute girl, with long brown hair tied into bows and several knives weaved into her belt and shoulder guard. The thing that struck them the most, however, was that she didn't look a day over sixteen.

"Lady and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce you to Tat'iana Olovianko, Russian Global Justice Special Agent."

End Chapter


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